"Ahhhh!" 

A terrified shriek pierced the silence of the small hotel room, shattering it like broken glass. It was so loud that it echoed through the walls, bringing the guests who were occupying the rooms on either side to a halt. Their eyes widened in terror as they turned to face the source of the noise. Only to be frightened once more when they heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. 

However, contrary to their imagination, which included murder and mayhem, it was actually caused by a recently resurrected black-haired boy. In the absence of that information, they relied on their instincts and dialed the help desk from the room phone.

While the guests were telling the operator their concerns, the boy in question had awoken in a panic. With a scream on his lips, Lixin jolted upright, his heart beating frantically. He winced as he took in his new surroundings. 

However, it was as though two realities were overlapping in his mind. One where he was still trapped on the bus being engulfed by fire and one where he was in a hotel room. And for the life of him, he couldn't tell which one was real. 

Despite this, he knew his senses wouldn't lie to him. He could smell the smoke and hear the crackling of the flames. He could feel the heat on his skin. Which meant he was still on the bus.  

It felt as though his chest was going to burst as fear of what was to come filled his brain. His only thought was to escape, and his feet moved before his mind caught up.

The bedsheet that entangled him after he fell out of bed foiled his attempt to flee, trapping him in place. The harder he struggled, the more the sheet constricted him, generating even more fright. 

Lixin thrashed around, his arms and legs flailing wildly in an attempt to get away. His mind was too far gone to notice that he simply had to take his legs out from under the sheet. 

He was in terror's grasp and it was slowly strangling the life out of him. Within minutes, his vision became blurry and his breathing became more erratic, rendering him unconscious.

It wasn't until someone started banging on the door that he came to. Although he was still somewhat disoriented, he was more aware of his surroundings. Removing the sheet from his legs, he got up once more and looked around the room.

For a split second, he considered the possibility that maybe he had been rescued and was in the hospital. However, his musings were cut short when he looked down at himself and noticed he had no bandages. He also couldn't feel any pain, all of which served to put an end to that particular train of thought.

Slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it, revealing the worried faces of the hotel staff.

"Are you okay, sir?" one of them asked, eyeing him carefully.

Lixin took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. "I-I'm fine," he stuttered. "Just had a nightmare."

The staff members exchanged glances before one of them said, "We heard a scream. Are you sure you don't need medical attention?"

Lixin shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine. Thank you for checking on me."

Without letting them speak, he closed the door before letting out a shaky breath. His hands trembled as he swept his fingers through his tangled hair before slowly dragging himself back over to the bed.

Gingerly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, taking a deep, steady breath as he did so.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Lixin wondered, confusion etched across his face. ‘Didn't I die?’

However, from the looks of things, that couldn't be so. Because here he was, all his one piece. So the only plausible answer, at least for him, was that he dreamt the whole thing. 

'But it felt so real,' he thought. 

Suddenly, he heard whales singing. Startled, he looked around, perplexed, only to discover that it was coming from a fish-shaped cell phone on the bedside table.

Getting up, he walked over to where it was and grabbed it. He didn't know why, but it felt strange to see it. It was the same phone he had saved up for months to get. However, as he looked at it, he saw a flash of his dad throwing it out the car window, destroying it.

Shaking away the memories of what he hoped was just a nightmare, he unlocked his phone. When he clicked on the notification, he discovered it was a text from Mr. Johnson.

For a moment, he couldn't remember who that person was. It was only when he opened up the text and read its contents that he realized it was the detective his mother hired. 

Although his memory was hazy, he remembered encountering a man after running away. Mr. Johnson brought him to a restaurant and got in touch with his mother. It was then that he found out that his father had lied to him about his mother abandoning him; instead, it was his father who had taken him away from her.

That's how he ended up in this hotel because his mother had paid for a week's stay since he didn't believe her story. Even though his father had some shortcomings, he still trusted him; he was the man who had raised him, after all.

However, because of that trust, he was tricked by that man. He could only blame himself. After everything he experienced leading up to this, he should have known better. 

As he was reflecting on his memories of how he ended up here, a strange thought popped up. 'If what happened to me was just a dream, why is my memory so foggy about things that should have happened a day ago?'

That's when it hit him. What he experienced couldn't have been a nightmare, because dreams don't affect memories, only time does.

'That must mean that every single thing I experienced was real.' The revelation made him feel as if a vice was tightening around his chest. 

The phone he was gripping so tightly creaked in his hands, and he felt a hot stream of tears pour down his cheeks. His stomach filled with sickening dread as the reality of what he had endured sank in–the betrayal, the humiliation, the pain. It had all been real. 

As the memory of his previous life played in his head, like an old movie reel, he threw his phone down on the hard floor. He didn't care if it broke or not. 

"I hate them! I hate them!" he snarled, rage coursing through his veins. 

Grabbing the nearest pillow, he punched it, picturing his father, that stupid bitch, and her spawn in its place. The pillow exploded as his fist tore into it, cotton flying everywhere. It was only after the thing was completely demolished that he was able to calm down. 

As Lixin clenched the ripped fabric of the pillow in his fist, the only thing left of his outburst, a sly smile appeared on his face. He realized he had been given a second chance. A chance to change the outcome of his life.

Any anger or sadness he was feeling previously was replaced by sheer determination. He would not let this gift go to waste. 

"This time things were going to be different."

~

Author Says:

Lixin: I see you’re here again. Are you going to offer me some more tea?

MomoCatt: Yup. But this time it will actually help you.

Lixin: Oh, really? How?

MomoCatt: Just drink it and see. This Chamomile tea will erase your sadness.